Chapter 2266: Chang Qingyun and Chang Pu
Yi Haoran waved generously. "What difficulty is there in that? Business is quiet at the shop anyway. Teaching Liheng to read is a small matter—won't take much effort. As for tuition, say no more. Life isn't easy for you and your son. The years ahead are long; better to save a few more coppers for finding Liheng a wife someday. If your late husband knows in the underworld, he'll surely be grateful."
Qiuchan's eyes grew moist. "Sir! You're truly the benefactor of our mother and son!"
"Please, please—none of that!" Yi Haoran feared she might cause a scene that would attract Ah Chun's attention. He waved his hand hurriedly. "I'll just need to clear it with Shopkeeper Luo first..."
"Ah Tao is a close friend from my maiden days. She'll certainly help with this." Jiang Qiuchan spoke with confidence.
They quickly agreed on a day to begin lessons. The study sessions would take place at the Yuxin Rice Shop. Each morning, a servant from the Jiang household would bring the child over, then pick him up again at noon.
After seeing Jiang Qiuchan off, Yi Haoran could barely contain his excitement. Heaven is truly helping me! What a remarkable day—encountering Jiang Suo when I went out, then having this fall into my lap upon returning! The Great Cause has hope!
A few days later, Qiuchan sent the child for his lessons as planned. Yi Haoran reported the arrangement to Luo Yangming, who merely laughed. Clearly, his mind was elsewhere—the shop's affairs were entirely entrusted to the old shopkeeper Li Wensheng.
Since the boy was young and times were unsettled, lessons ended before noon each day. The Jiang household sent a servant to collect him, leaving Yi Haoran with nothing to do most afternoons. Every now and then, Qiuchan would visit personally, bringing soup or dim sum. Yi Haoran felt that with Qiuchan still in mourning, such frequent interactions might invite gossip—he ought to remind her to maintain propriety. But considering this was necessary for the "Great Cause," and given his teacher-student relationship with her son, he let the matter rest. He waited quietly for news from Jiang Suo.
Chang Qingyun returned to his quarters at Sanheui, his mind churning in turmoil.
Today he had encountered Jiang Suo by the Gui River Floating Bridge.
He knew Jiang Suo—a squad officer among the house guards trained by Viceroy Xiong. After the Battle of Bang Mountain, his whereabouts had been unknown. Chang Qingyun had never had dealings with such low-level military officers and rather looked down on them. Had he not heard that the man was a "surrendered Australian" and felt some curiosity about that, he probably wouldn't even remember his name. In fact, by now he had nearly forgotten what Jiang Suo looked like.
But Jiang Suo hadn't forgotten him. He had stopped Chang Qingyun just as he was about to step onto the floating bridge, expressing a desire to "talk."
Chang Qingyun had no wish to talk. Though he was a captive now, his life remained comfortable. Though the Taipings despised Ming scholars, they still needed people who could read and write. Chang Qingyun could write and calculate, which earned him excellent treatment in the captive camp. Even the fake Australian officers guarding the prisoners addressed him as "Mr. Chang." He rarely went out for labor, and when he did, it was always clerical work—no physical exertion required.
Chang Qingyun estimated the Australians would eventually use the same old methods: once the situation stabilized, they would let everyone pay ransom, or those without money could accumulate points to earn their freedom. Either way, he would escape safely. This stint as an advisor could be considered a close call that ended well. Once he returned to his hometown, he would never venture out as an advisor again. The Australians had left too deep a psychological shadow.
But Jiang Suo's next words made his blood run cold.
"Since Sir is unwilling to speak with me, perhaps I should send word that you are actually Master Chang himself?"
Though the great fire during Wuzhou's fall hadn't consumed the entire city, plenty of families had been ruined and lives lost. The common people hated Xiong Wencan and his associates to the bone—especially Chang Pu, who had proposed the burning of Wuzhou. His name was reviled by thousands, cursed by tens of thousands. At the mention of "Master Chang under Xiong Wencan," people gnashed their teeth, wishing they could eat his flesh and sleep on his skin.
Very unfortunately, the Chang Pu who devised that plan was surnamed Chang, and Chang Qingyun was also surnamed Chang. Moreover, both had served under Xiong Wencan. After his capture, Chang Qingyun had expended enormous effort distancing himself from Chang Pu. It was fortunate the Australians weren't in the habit of "borrowing heads" to make examples—otherwise, those two coincidences alone would have gotten him killed seventeen or eighteen times over.
"What nonsense! The one who proposed that vicious plan was Chang Pu—the former magistrate of Enping! What does it have to do with me? Anyone in Viceroy Xiong's staff would know that!" Chang Qingyun's voice rose with indignation. Chang Pu had disappeared before the city fell; whether he had escaped with Xiong Wencan or died in the chaos was unknown. If this caused a commotion, Chang Qingyun wouldn't be able to clear his name no matter how many mouths he had.
"Heh, even if you aren't him, wasn't this Chang Pu recommended to Xiong Wencan by you?" Jiang Suo sneered. "He was originally a disgraced official. After losing his county seat, he was already awaiting punishment, merely fleeing with the main army. But you recommended him to Xiong Wencan. That's surely true, isn't it? Easy enough to verify."
The words struck like thunder. If anyone investigated seriously, he really couldn't wiggle out of it. He had indeed known about Chang Pu's plan to burn Wuzhou. Not only had he failed to dissuade it—he had actually considered the plan viable and recommended Chang Pu to Xiong Wencan.
"What... what do you want?" Chang Qingyun's voice trembled.
"Nothing much." Jiang Suo regarded the panic-stricken Chang Qingyun with contempt. "An old acquaintance would like to arrange a meeting."
Chang Qingyun couldn't recall clearly how he had crossed the floating bridge and returned to the captive camp. In a daze, he stumbled back to his quarters with uneven steps.
The Sanheui Captive Camp was enormous. It had originally been the parade ground for government troops. Wuzhou was a key military town with substantial troop garrisons, so there were plenty of barracks—enough to accommodate a vast number of prisoners. Not only were officials and soldiers captured in the Wuzhou campaign detained here, but personnel seized during Guangxi operations and clearing actions around Wuzhou were also sent here for screening and detention. At its peak, the camp held six or seven thousand people. Some were released after screening, others shipped to Guangzhou for "allocation." The camp had also sheltered some refugees, though most had since been repatriated. Currently, about four thousand captives remained, put to work as laborers.
As a "clerk," Chang Qingyun occupied a small room of his own, serving as both bedroom and office. He stumbled inside, closed the door, and collapsed onto the worn bed.
The "old acquaintance" Jiang Suo mentioned was undoubtedly someone from Xiong Wencan's former staff. He could roughly guess the purpose of this meeting—almost certainly to "do great things."
Doing great things in Australian-ruled Wuzhou would naturally cost him his head.
When Chang Qingyun had been riding high, he too had harbored feelings of "why spare my life for fame and merit," burning with fierce ambition. But since the disastrous defeat at Chengmai, his failure to commit suicide amid the chaos, and his ultimate capture and ignominious survival, half his passionate blood had drained away.
When Xiong Wencan had decided on the fire plan and prepared to abandon the city, Chang Qingyun had requested to stay behind to "coordinate inside and outside," steeling himself to die for the city. It would wash away the shame of being captured by the Australians before and repay Xiong Wencan's grace in selecting him.
But when the fire actually blazed, Chang Qingyun regretted it—just as he had regretted following the imperial army overseas to fight the Taipings all those years ago.
He had no complaints about his current captive life. Endure a year or so, and the Australians would naturally release him.
"Better to report this!" The thought surfaced unbidden from the depths of his mind. But remembering Jiang Suo's words, Chang Qingyun slumped again.
Everyone in Xiong Wencan's staff knew about his connection to Chang Pu—at least a dozen people in this very camp. If Jiang Suo were captured and insisted that Chang Qingyun had proposed the burning of Wuzhou, how could he defend himself? Even if the Australians believed the plan was Chang Pu's idea, it was Chang Qingyun who had recommended the man to Xiong Wencan, making the burning possible. Even by Ming standards, he would be considered "reckless and devoid of conscience." If the Australians cut him in half, no one would think him wronged.
Chang Qingyun's hands and feet went ice-cold. Sweat beaded on his back. He didn't stir until the dinner bell rang outside, forcing himself upright and mustering the spirit to go eat.
The captive camp served two meals daily. Those who went out for physical labor received an additional meal from their work site. These meals were nothing special—standard grassland dry ration paste, rice porridge, and sweet potatoes, accompanied by military-issue pickled vegetables. Fresh vegetables were all procured locally and simply washed and tossed into the porridge or paste rather than cooked. Taste was beside the point—one could at least eat until full.
Chang Qingyun fetched a basin of paste and returned to his room, eating mechanically while thinking through his options. Suddenly someone called from outside: "Chang Qingyun! Chang Qingyun!"
Chang Qingyun froze. Everyone in the captive camp usually called him "Sir"—even the fake Australians. Why was someone suddenly calling him by name? A flash of indignation rose within him as he got up to answer.
Looking out, he saw an unfamiliar fake Australian cadre. Not daring to be rude, he bowed. "I am Chang Qingyun. What orders does the Superior Officer have?"
"You?" The newcomer looked him up and down. "Clean yourself up and come with me immediately."
Chang Qingyun shivered. Could someone have reported his conversation with Jiang Suo this afternoon? Or had Jiang Suo already informed the Australians that he was the instigator of Wuzhou's burning?
"What exactly is this about?" He gathered his courage and asked carefully.
"You'll find out when you get there. Why all the hesitation?" The newcomer was clearly impatient. "It's getting dark. If we don't go now, we'll miss the city gate."
Despite his apprehension, Chang Qingyun had no choice but to follow. They left the captive camp, crossed the floating bridge, and entered through Dayun Gate. The group walked some distance along the street before arriving at a pitch-dark government compound.
Though dusk had fallen, Chang Qingyun still recognized the place. This was the "Three Headquarters" of Wuzhou City, where Xiong Wencan had once been stationed. As a member of the Governor's staff, Chang Qingyun had lived here himself—he knew it as well as his own home.
Strange—why bring him to the Three Headquarters? He knew that since the Australians entered the city, this place had become a barracks, housing numerous troops.
Next Update: Volume 7 - Guangzhou Governance Part 470 (End of Chapter)